FLAME and other Omens
by You're All So Vacant
Summary: Harry starts playing a game called flame in potions...and Malfoy steals the parchment and gives it to Snape, revealing Harry's crush on the Potion's Master! SS/HP full slash, R


**A/N- This is slash. Please leave if you are offended by it. This fic is for Meagan Glidden in Snarry Lovers on facebook, who gave me this prompt:**Idea I call F.L.A.M.E.S. in which Harry is daydreaming in Potions class and goofing off by playing that popular game we used to play as children- FLAMES (Friends, Lovers, Affectionate, Marriage, Enemies, Sex Partners) and MASH and other silly preteen preturd games. Draco finds his dribbling and taunts him about it, Snape intervenes and takes the paper.** I used FLAME rather than FLAMES because it worked better when I figured the results out.**

F.L.A.M.E and other omens

Harry sighed as he doodled absent-mindedly on the corner of his parchment. The task of the lesson was an essay on the uses of birch roots, and, needless to say, he had finished exceedingly quickly, and it wasn't due to having amazingly fast writing abilities. Three measly and possibly incorrect facts were bullet-pointed at the top of the parchment, two being potions that Harry was sure that he had spelt entirely wrong, and Harry's entire knowledge on the subject was written out for Snape to see.

Not just see. It wouldn't be a potions essay if it wasn't returned to the Gryffindor boy with a healthy dose of angry shouting, followed by irritated and slightly tired mumbling from both the professor and Harry himself. Harry sighed, using his wand to slice the doodled four fifths of the parchment from the small section where his work was; there was no need to aggravate Severus further with his probably rubbish drawing of the whomping willow, which, for some unknown reason, was drawn next to a giant squid, which he had drawn so badly that it had nine tentacles. The squid was larger than the tree, and if handed in, it would most likely gain some very condescending and sarcastic remarks on his artistic ability along with the inevitable ones describing his ineptness for potions.

'Severus'. Harry deflated until he was slouched right down in his seat. That dratted first name was practically solid proof that his crush wasn't going to fade. In his lower years at Hogwarts, the name was never one he actually associated with the head of Slytherin,though of course he knew it was the man's name.

But later on, in fourth year, Harry had heard Albus speaking in his usual kind voice, and hearing the old man say Severus, when the man himself was in Harry's line of sight -for he had been spying through a 'crack' in the door to Albus' office- had just made it click.

suited him, Harry had decided at that moment, seeing the Slytherin relaxed and holding a white and blue teacup and saucer. He seemed like a different person,totally unlike the harch, constantly on edge Potion's Professor, who lurked the dungeons as if determined to fimd someone to vent his never-ending amounts of anger at.

That's not to say that he only liked Severus, the man he had seen for five seconds in the office of Albus Dumbledore.

He liked Snape, with the way he brushed his hair from his face with both palms, only for it to fall back in place mere seconds later, and he liked the way the man could manipulate even the fiddliest of ingredients with his long elegant fingers, and he liked the way he walked, making his robed billow so they moved far enough out of the way for it to be easy for Harry to see his long, shaped but thin legs, and he liked the way that the long robe made the man look both slim and intimidating, but also showed the chest broad enough for Harry to burrow into or to protect with like a shield, the way he had in Harry's third year, when Remus hadn't taken his wolvesbane and the Slytherin had stood in front of the three famous Gryffindors in an effort to save them.

Last but not least was his voice. When shouting, the man was terrifying, but when he was reading aloud, totally engrossed in a passage from advanced potions, or an article from his Master's subscription that he thought was particularly important for his class to know, his voice came alive, flowing deep and rich like a mouthful of chocolate followed by a sip of good quality red wine, silky smooth and utterly passionate; it was a voice that could both excite Harry and cause him to lose concentration, sending him into a trance. It often swept him away, making him daydream, so that the voice simply washed over him, permeating through his ears to dance across his brain. It was fabulous, and probably also the reason that Harry never seemed to remember anything from those textbook lessons.

That differed from Severus' voice. Well, it seemed to, as Harry had only heard Severus speak a few words, answering a question of Albus' with a soft 'of course I have, and I hope it works'. The syllables rolled of Severus' tongue more slowly than Snape's, languid, and the thought of that tone saying anything at all to Harry made him shudder. Just like Snape's voice, but entirely relaxed. It was lovely.

Severus had all the same traits as Snape, but Harry didn't want to be protected by him, instead he wanted to crawl onto his lap and rest his head against the man's heart.

It was the most ridiculous crush Harry had ever had. And he knew all too well that his emotion for the man wasn't really that deep. It was like every time Lavender found an attractive male she had yet to shag; in Lavender-style, Harry had noticed these things that he found very attractive, and thought about them, and watched the man to catch his movements, and then it had become habitual to concentrate on the man.

Lavender also talked about whoever had caught her attention until the boy was shagged and gone. That period of time usual involved her loudly swooning along with a cheerful Parvati and an irritated Hermione, and Harry heard almost all of her comments every time.

He had even agreed with her in the past.

Harry simply couldn't shag Severus and be done with it, that was what he had decided the problem to be. That had to be it. It wasn't going away because he hadn't been intimate with the man at all. Unless he counted having that hooked nose less than an inch from his own as Snape shouted at him...

"Mr Potter, the blackboard is completely blank. You are unwise to assume that you can siphon answers from it."

Harry shuddered as that deep voice jolted him back to the class. It was the sharp tone, more like raspberries than his chocolate reading voice, that warned him to sit to attention.

The Gryffindor quickly picked up the second piece of paper from the edge of his desk- placed there in case he finished the first- and put it down on top of his essay and drawings. He could _feel_ the man arching a brow in his direction. Harry Potter never needed a second piece of parchment.

Now of course, he had captured the teacher's attention, and needed to at least _look_ like he was writing something.

F.L.A.M.E

Seve**r**us

Har**r**y 12-2 =10

He went through the word flame, going back to F when he got past E. The 10th letter...E.

Enemies. Harry scowled deeply, dipping his quill in his inkwell thoroughly so that he could draw a thick black cross over the top. Damn it all to hell. Of course, he wasn't going to put much stock in the game taught to him by Seamus Finnigan and -oddly- Luna Lovegood, but an L or even an M would have at least been a good omen...right?

Lifting one hand to cover his rather flushing face, Harry tried not to glance up at the man standing at the front of the large, cold room. And, after a moment, he succeeded. Just about.

Last names...

With a slightly sheepish smirk, Harry started again.

F.L.A.M.E

Pott**e**r

Sna**pe **11-4= 7

He went back through the word Flame again, and this time, amazingly to Harry, it landed on L.

Lovers.

He almost clapped with happiness. As it was, he simply drew little firework marks around the L, and wrote the word Lovers under his little game.

Professor Snape chose then to clap his hands twice in quick succession, and he stood to full height as he always did before speaking.

"Now, you have all had sufficient time to write your essay, or essays, if you were born an insufferable know-it-all." Harry glanced over at Hermione, whose desk was positively covered with parchment of various sizes. She had a large amount of ink on her ear, and gave off the impression of having run an entire marathon.

Harry didn't really know why his friend tried quite that hard. It was common knowledge that everyday classwork was never going to earn her a better mark than Malfoy- It was only in the official exams that she got the grade she actually deserved.

"I have to see to something for Headmaster Dumbledore. I will literally be one minute. If any of you so much as breathe whilst I'm gone, you shall suffer."

Snape swept out of the room, and Harry admired the way his hair flicked when he turned to glare before he disappeared entirely.

The entire room was silent. Until Lavender, in typical characteristic girlie fashion, burst out laughing. In high pitched shrieking giggles.

That set off Parvarti, and prompted Pansy to throw a ball of useless parchment at the pair.

Suddenly, the majority of room thought it would be fine to talk. Once one person was in trouble, it didn't really make much difference for someone else to.

Harry stayed where he was, smiling at Hermione and Ron. Both smiled back, though Hermione looked exhausted and Ron's hair was sticking up as if he had been running his hand through it in complete panic not long earlier. He probably hadn't written much more than Harry had.

He held up his rather small 'essay' to show Ron his efforts, which knocked the other papers on his desk.

The top one flew upwards, but Harry, signaling his failure to his best friend, didn't notice until it was too late.

Both his friend's expressions turned apprehensive, and Harry looked around just in time to see Draco Malfoy catch his flame parchment.

He stood up so abruptly he knocked over his stool, and lunged at the blonde Slytherin who was staring at the scratchy writing like it was a fascinating novel.

Harry reached to grab the paper from him, but only half-heartedly; from the look of glee spreading across his enemies face, the other boy had already read it. Or at least got the gist of it.

Harry righted himself and stood still, waiting for Malfoy's response. The only good was that the class had passed the point where their arguing was entertainment; now the class simply stuck to their own conversations.

"Really Potter? Professor Snape?"

Harry gritted his teeth. There was nothing he could really say to that.

"Honestly Potter." Draco tutted. "Harry James Potter, The Boy Who Lived, Supposed Savior of the Wizarding World, is queer? And for our Potions Professor no less! Ha!" Draco tilted his head as if in contemplation." What about Weaslette, Potter? I thought you were all set to have little ginger children with a fondness for Muggles."

He sighed. " At least Uncle Severus isn't a blood traitor, I suppose. Though he wouldn't have you."

Harry tried not to allow the moisture gathering in his eyes to fall. It was partly anger, and partly embarrasment, but to his shame, it was mostly sadness, for he knew Draco was right.

A grown, cultured, clever man wouldn't look twice at a scrawny, thick young man like himself. Unless it was to insult, as Snape did frequently.

"Just wait until Professor Snape sees this!" Draco sounded like his Christmas had come early. Considering that Draco got what he wanted, when he wanted it, Harry supposed that that piece of parchment was actually better than Christmas to the blonde.

"Just wait until Professor Snape sees what, Mr Malfoy?"

Severus reentered the room, his voice dangerously soft and his drawl deceptive. There was a unanimous gulp of fear throughout the room.

The Slytherin Prince practically skipped to the front of the class, waving Harry's parchment towards him with a flourish.

It was easy to see the blind fall over the Professor's face as he read what was on it.

"Everyone. Except. Mr. Potter. Is dismissed."

His voice was strained, but got the point across, and there was a hurricane around Harry as his classmates rushed to leave the room, all trying to avoid being the last out.

The room was empty very quickly, with just Severus and Harry remaining.

"What is this, Mr Potter."

"I-i-it's a game, Sir."

"A game?" He black eyes flashed warningly.

"Y-yes. It's called flame."

"I know what it's called, Potter! I teach in a school. Don't think I've never seen this before. I've seen it so many times I've lost count, but never with these...names."

He frowned. "Why our names, Potter?"

"I was bored..." Harry tried, but he sounded unconvincing even to himself.

"You. Were. Bored."

Harry's eyes snapped upwards to glare at the man whose tone had turned so sarcastic.

"You said you've seen it before, _Professor!_ You know why it's our names, you just get some sort of sick pleasure out of humiliating me!"

_One step too far._

"Detention, Potter, in this dungeon, at seven o'clock sharp. Understood?"

Harry nodded sullenly, not trusting himself to verbalise a response.

"Now. Get. Out!"

Harry didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

The Gryffindor made his way to the dungeons at ten to seven, determined not to be the slightest bit late. Of course, it was almost as bad to turn up early, so Harry stood around the corner from the dungeon, waiting.

"You are early, Mr Potter. Were you standing here to ensure you could become tardy?"

Harry spun around. Snape, with his usual smirk in place, was standing right behind him.

"No, I was trying to get there exactly on time." Then, as an afterthought, he added "_Sir."_

"Well, early is better than late, I suppose. You can start your detention three minutes early. You where to go."

The Gryffindor walked to his potions classroom, trying to walk at a normal pace despite hearing the man's footsteps following him. Harry felt like he was being chased.

And, like an animal stuck in it's pen, as soon as he stood a few feet into the room, the door slammed shut, and Snape stalked past him to his desk, which he leaned against lightly.

The Slytherin said nothing for several minutes, and, unable to stand the silence, Harry ended up speaking first.

"What do you want me to do?"

Severus regarded him with a look of curiosity.

"You, Mr Potter, you are going to sit. And we are going to have a little chat."

"What are we going to talk about? Sir?" The term of address was disjointed, as Harry only just remembered to say it, and it was very obvious. But at least his voice didn't hold the usual term of sarcasm, and Snape's face didn't shift to sneer at him.

"You are going to tell me, in plain English, exactly what you were doing in class today."

"W-well, I, uh, I was writing my essay, and you've seen the parchment, I didn't write much so I-"

"I didn't have to see your essay to know that there would be very little writing, Potter. Continue." Snape rudely interrupted him, then politely ordered him forward. _Git._

_"_Well, yeah, my knowledge on birch roots isn't great, so I didn't write much 'cause I didn't-"

"Because, not 'cause, Potter. You are sixteen, you should know how to speak correctly. And do get to the point."

"I'm trying to! Could you at least let me speak?!"

Snape raised one eyebrow at Harry's tone, but waved his hand in acquiescence.

Harry took a deep breath. "Well, we had loads of time to write in, and because I didn't know anything-"Harry faltered slightly as Severus snorted quietly "-I had time to spare. So I drew a bit, the whomping Willow and the giant squid -anyway that's not relevant- and then I remembered that game. So I just kind of played it to pass the time..." Harry's voice dwindled off as he noticed Severus staring in a rather peculiar way.

"Well, from that little insight into your clearly jumbled mind, I have learnt practically nothing. Why did you use our names?"

"You asked that earlier! You know the answer, so the only reason you're asking is because you're trying to embarrass me!"

"Pretend I don't know. Or that the rules have changed since I last saw that game. Come on, do enlighten me."

The only Response the Slytherin got was silence.

"Mr Potter, I will ask multiple times. In fact, I will ask of your motive and reasoning until I get a straight answer. Now. Tell. Me!"

Harry let his eyes roam over the man, not hiding his observations on Severus' stance. The slytherin had leant forward from his perch on the end of the desk in his utter aggravation. He was sat with his fingers touched together, tented up to touch just under his chin. His elbows were resting on his knees, forming a triangle with his upper thighs, arms, and back as the sides. His posture was perfectly straight, despite the slant at which he was sat, making him look elegant, refined and very, very attractive.

The Gryffindor knew that he couldn't simply _say_ it. He would sound utterly ridiculous compared with this statuesque, calm, confidant man. No, he definitely wasn't going to say anything.

Instead, Harry launched himself off of the desk that he had been not-so-elegantly slouched over, springing forward to land lightly on both feet in front of the older man.

From there, he only took the time to steady himself before leaning down to the other man. Ordinarily, he would have been a good portion of a foot shorter than the Slytherin, but sat down as he was, gave Harry the advantage.

In more than one way. Harry leant and braced his hands on the desk to the sides of the man's waist, effectively trapping him as he tilted his face until his nose was brushing against Severus' infamous hook. He nudged it gently as he took a deep breath, steeling himself before he pushed his mouth towards the older man until their lips were just touching.

Harry's chapped, dry lips pressed lightly against Severus' smooth, slightly moist ones, and for a moment, both of them seemed a little startled, despite Harry having consciously made the decision to kiss him.

The jolt of surprise set Harry slightly off balance, and he found himself unintentionally putting extra pressure on the other man's lips.

For a second, he didn't dare to move, until, miraculously, Severus pressed back. It was barely noticeable at first, and the Gryffindor thought it possibly his imagination filling the gap, but when he then brushed his lips smoothly, forwards and back again, there was a definite response on the third movement.

Severus' lips plumped out a hint, and parted enough for his breath to tickle Harry's lips. Cinnamon and tea and a hint of the smell that everyone's breath had, but that Harry thought was actually okay in that combination. When he pulled his mouth away slightly, Severus' followed, keeping his lips trapped.

The Slytherin's mouth parted even more, the increased pressure now forcing Harry's own to move too, and then amazingly, Severus' tongue was in his mouth, licking over his bottom lip and up against the roof of his mouth. The sensation tickled, but Severus moved to lick Harry's tongue before it got too much.

The lick against his tongue reminded Harry that he was supposed to be moving, and his muscle pushed back, fighting against Severus' in a futile attempt to push it back into the Slytherin's mouth.

WHen Harry was finally allowed a taste, it was such an abrupt change that he knew it must have been deliberate. Not that he was complaining, as Harry took the opportunity to lick Severus' teeth, over and under, before brushing the inside of one of his cheeks.

His hands shifted from the desk to the man's shoulders, squeezing slightly as he felt the heavy but soft fabric cothering the man. From the way he had moved, their knees were forced to press together, and Severus' hands climbed up Harry's thighs to rest on his waist, with his fingers tilting down suggestively to the edge of the waistband of Harry's trousers.

He had forgone his robes, instead wearing blue jeans and a plain black shirt. Which became quickly untucked from the jeans as Severus's fingers clenched and unclenched in the shirt, displacing the material as he responded to Harry's brushes along his collarbone through the high-necked robe.

Neither male was used to the soft, tickly ministrations the other was giving, and whilst Harry occasionally shuddered lightly, particularly when one finger stroked across the bare skin of his abdomen from the rise of his shirt, Severus only moved his hands in response, the rest of his muscles freezing as if he were suppressing a moan every time Harry did something particularly enjoyable. He most probably was, Harry decided,and that made him automatically want to force a reaction from him; much like the urge to get him to scream at him when they were arguing.

The Gryffindor very lightly grazed his teeth over Severus' bottom lip; he knew the feeling of actually being bitten wasn't for everyone.

Not that he really needed to show that consideration; when Harry changed angle back to kiss the man properly, Severus bit back. And though it certainly wasn't enough to break the skin, it wasn't exactly a playful nip either. It made Harry groan deeply.

Caught in a haze, Harry scampered upwards, using Severus' shoulders for leverage so that he could straddle the older man's lap.

Rather predictably, that brought their groins into an uncalculated amount of contact, rubbing their erections together roughly. Severus let out a low hiss that jumped straight to Harry's hormone-filled brain as Harry himself reacted more visibly, arching his back as he moaned loudly.

"Potter please tell me you aren't some innocent virgin." Snape gasped as he pulled back.

"No, I'm not." That was Harry's only response before he leaned to the side to suck on Snape's earlobe, tugging at the flesh with his lips alone.

"Good. Because I wouldn't recommend this desk as a comfortable place for the innocent."

Harry snickered. It definitely seemed like an assurance that they weren't stopping there.

"Snape?"

"Yes?" Severus' voice was muffled as his face was buried into Harry's shoulder.

"Stop talking and start stripping." Severus snorted.

"I think you will find that **you** are the only one who will be stripped, Mr Potter. My robes are not ideal for a hasty undressing."

And right he was. There had to be at least fifty buttons on that robe.

"You need less buttons."

"An excellent suggestion for the future, Mr Potter." He reached to grasp the ends of Harry's shirt. "But for now, you can just lift your arms."

Harry did as he was told, and his shirt was pulled over his head, ruffling his hair even more than usual. This bared his chest, which just gave Severus large amounts of skin to run his hands over. And he certainly wasted no time in doing so. One hand trailed along Harry's collarbone, then tiptoed down to caress a nipple.

Harry gasped, and quickly reconnected his lips to the Slytherin's. His trousers were suddenly far too tight. He shifted uncomfortably, but the older man did nothing to help him out of them.

They kissed for what felt like hours, until both of them could feel an ache settling in their jaws. Only then did Severus release Harry. He pushed the boy off of his lap, catching his waist as an afterthought, when he remembered how clumsy the Boy-who-lived actually was.

He pushed Harry's jeans down, not bothering to undo the button or zip as the clothing was so lose, and immediately noticed the lack of underwear on the shorter male.

Harry blushed to see Severus looking at him, but kicked off the jeans as soon as he was able anyway. As long as he had no means to hide his body, it was easy to accept his nakedness. Harry had a rather small body, and it was lean and toned from quidditch, along with a perfectly average sized cock. Though, due to his small frame, it appeared bigger than it actually was, something that one of Harry's previous lovers had been rather quick to tell him.

Severus pulled Harry back onto his lap in the same position as before, using his grip on the boy to make him grind against him.

Harry caught on quickly, and moved on his own, which allowed Severus to free one of his hands from Harry's waist. He raised it up to Harry's mouth, and prodded the Gryffindor's lip with two fingers.

"Suck, Potter."

Not bothering to ask why, Harry did as he was told, curling his tongue around the fingers and dragging them into his mouth. He sucked hard, twirling his tongue to spread his saliva as much as possible.

When Snape was satisfied, he nipped Harry's neck hard to make the Gryffindor release his fingers, then moved his hand to Harry's arse. He trailed his fingers down the crack, up and down several times before pressing them to his partner's hole. He massaged lightly, around the area until spit-slicked and relaxed, his fingertip slid easily towards the inside of the hole.

From there, he tentatively pressed one finger into Harry, pushing until his finger was all the way in before swirling it around. He noted the easy way in which Harry accommodated the digit, despite his passage feeling tight around him.

The boy had clearly been telling the truth.

With a small, deep moan, Severus added another finger to the first, moving them together, in and out, several times before he began to sissor them.

Harry started moaning, long and deep.

"More. Please."

"What do you want?"

"Your cock. In me. Now."

Severus slapped Harry's thigh lightly.

"You're going to have to lift up a moment, my wand is beneath you."

"Which one?"

"Both."

And... He wasn't kidding.

Severus pulled his wand out of his pocket, undid enough of his buttons to free his thick cock, then cast a lubrication charm on Harry, who shivered as the cold liquid coated the inside of his arse.

Severus was thick, and fairly long, but not extreme either way. Still Harry stared at the thick vein that ran the length, his eyes trailing over the man's member.

"Are you simply going to stare, or are you actually going to ride me? Hm, Potter?"

Harry swallowed audibly, then shifted back down until his arse was brushing against the man's cock.

Severus growled as Harry rocked against the head of his cock, teasing him.

"God-damnit, Harry."

Harry shivered as he heard his name spoken in that velvet voice. Then he reached down to hold Severus' cock, aligned it with his entrance, and began to lower himself down.

He rocked his hips as he sunk down, stretching himself carefully whilst trying to move quite swiftly. It still seemed like a long time had passed when he had finally sunk to the base.

From there, he rocked slowly, undulating his hips round as he moved over the man's prick.

From his position on the desk, Severus couldn't move much, and instead he wrapped his hands around the Gryffindor's waist, lifting him up slightly to prompt him to move properly.

Harry took the hint, and began to lift and drop himself at a steady pace, feeling the man slip in and out of him as he moved.

Unfortunately, the position was not ideal, and as hard as Harry tried, he couldn't quite get Severus' cock,- despite how thick it was- to hit his prostate head on.

"Ngh, I can't quite-"

"Useless, Potter. You're the one moving, and you can't even aim to hit your own prostate." Severus sighed, though his words had no bite.

He lifted Harry up in a fluid motion, and turned both of them so that Harry's back was resting on the desk, and Severus was standing in front of him.

"From past experience, I would suggest you brace yourself."

"What, you fuck a lot of students on this desk?"

Severus pulled back and thrust back in. Hard.

"No, imbecile. And I was in your position."

That shocked Harry, but he couldn't respond, for Severus had started thrusting in an out of him, quickly and smoothly.

It took nearly half a minute before Harry shouted.

But when he did, it was very loud, and his entire face scrunched up as he bucked up towards the older man.

From there, Severus knew exactly how to move, where to hit, and it wasn't long before Harry was wailing with frustration as he teetered on the brink of orgasm.

"Touch yourself."

"If I do that, we'll probably both fall to the floor."

Severus gave a mock-sigh that came out as more of a pant, and tightened one hand around Harry to hold him still, before moving the other to stroke the Gryffindor's cock.

"SEVERUS!" Harry came violently, coating his chest and Severus' robe in his come. His arse clenched tightly around Severus' cock, and Severus only gave two small thrust before he, too, spilled his seed, coating the inside of Harry as well as some of the boy's thigh in his fluid.

The Slytherin slumped forward onto his knees, and his head fell forward to lie on Harry's stomach. Harry ran a hand over Severus' hair lazily, smiling as they got their breath back.

They both looked a mess, and Harry noticed that the white streaks stood out particularly prominently against the black of Severus' robe.

"Next time, you are definitely getting undressed."

"Next time, Harry?"

But his tone was teasing, and he hadn't called him Potter. That was definitely a good omen.

**The End.**

**A/N- Please leave a review!**


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